


moving in and moving forward

by dames_for_jamesbarnes



Series: pieces of love [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moving In Together, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dames_for_jamesbarnes/pseuds/dames_for_jamesbarnes
Summary: that fifth night?well, the nightmares. they start, then.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Series: pieces of love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784896
Kudos: 39





	moving in and moving forward

the fifth night together is when it all goes to shit.

of course, the first through fourth nights weren’t particularly great, either. it’s a new place, after all. their last box was unpacked the third night, and their dishes were put away by the second. their smiles had been shared across the living room as sam stacked the last bowl in the kitchen, even as exhaustion etched itself under his eyes.

“one thing down…” he had huffed, standing up straight and pulling himself into a stretch,

“… million more to go,” bucky’d teased from a distance, but made sure to cross the space in time to let his arms wrap around the other, pulling him close so those arms had the chance to rest on his shoulders. “we got it. don’t we?”

“yeah,” sam had said, smirking, before wrinkling his nose at the smell of the two of them mingling together. “after a shower, and some fucking food? we definitely got this.”

but even that smile couldn’t hide the fact that sam had to wake up early, that bucky had to watch him go with a hand laying limp on the sheets. that their new apartment was “forty minutes” from sam’s work and that commute easily hit an hour on a good day. but it was what they could afford. and it let them sit on the same couch and sleep in the same bed every damn day they wanted to.

and yeah, the first few nights had been rough. more than a little rough. cheap mattresses are cheap for a reason, and even blankets with some meaning to them seemed to choke the both of them. but they just told themselves, the routine would come, and with it, a bit of ease, and four nights had passed with tossing and turning with not much else.

but that fifth night?

well, the nightmares. they start, then.

it’s a blessing, in a way. having a nightmare means that bucky has officially reached a comfort level in the new apartment that earns him deep sleep, the kind where dreams reside in the first place. but, all in all, if it would he never had another one again, he’s willing to disregard any kind of comfort. because nightmares? the terror of losing what he cares for most in the whole damn world? 

they fucking suck. 

and nightmares, a few of them through the wee hours of the morning, is what has bucky standing at the kitchen sink, alternating between thinking he’s gonna empty his stomach or collapsing with before he can bother. his elbow is locked, fingers gripping the edge of the counter so tight he thinks for a second the fake granite will break right off.

it doesn’t. but it seems pretty damn close.

“fuckin’ fuck,” he mutters under his breath, shoving away from the counter, and he’s about to turn and try his best to just get his guts puking out in the trash can when he sees sam standing there.

there’s not exactly a panic that fills bucky’s chest. sam’s seen bucky in worse condition after a rough night. it’s just… a frustration that even when sam’s struggling he can’t pull himself together a little better.

because sam’s tired. his arms are hugging himself, trying to keep the chill of the still-too-empty place out of his bones, and his eyes are blinking too often to be anything other than an effort to keep himself from sleeping right there on his feet.

“hey, sammy,” bucky murmurs, offering a tight smile, and the guy just smiles a bit as he shuffles forward. those are bucky’s slippers. it doesn’t really matter of course, who wears what nowadays, but there’s still something good that comes from seeing it. 

“hey, tough guy.” the words are soft, gentle more than anything else. “rough night?”

“aren’t all of ‘em?” he manages.

“sometimes, yeah,” sam murmurs, close enough that his voice could be pitched low, that he could press his nose into the other’s shoulder and still be heard. “but in the end, there’s some good in those, too.” bucky can feel the other’s teeth, a small grin daring to peek out. “luckiest guy alive, that’s me.”

they’re curling into each other now, and bucky’s arm wraps tightly around sam’s waist, just as sam’s toes nudge up against bucky’s socks.

“and why’s that, huh?” bucky whispers, a little bit of awe as there always is with sam. 

“because even rough nights are nights i get to spend with you.”

bucky’s shoulders sag a little, and his eyes close, then.

“… is that enough?” he rasps, and his fingers tangle into the back of sam’s wife beater. and sam, bless him, just laughs, pulling back to kiss the other’s nose, his forehead, his cheeks, his lips last of all before there’s a tug back to their bedroom. bucky’s sagging into that, too.

because in sam’s mind, there’s no question, just an air of _of course, of course, of course, it is._ “yeah, baby. more than.”


End file.
